Amarant: Prelude
by Victor Sigil
Summary: How Amarant came to be in the service of Queen Brahne. The story examines his thoughts of the task at hand, his personal demons, and his contempt towards Lani. Please read and review.


**AMARANT: PRELUDE**

DISCLAIMER: Final Fantasy IX and all of its character names and places are properties of Square-Enix. I only own this story.

**CHAPTER ONE: TRENO: Still sore in some places**

I walk through the dark and unfriendly streets of Treno, my shadow trailing me like a reluctant banshee. Why anybody would call it the City of Nobles is beyond me. The only thing noble about it is that it's still standing. The stone architecture is crumbling, and the streets and bridges are in disrepair. The city itself is sinking, for God's sake. The canals, which the nobles thought were such a good idea to build, actually eat away at a lot of the foundations. This reminds me of something I once read about in a storybook: some ancient city called Venice. The city eventually broke apart and sunk into the ground.

I really don't like coming here, but this is usually where I get my best jobs. Being a bounty-hunter, unfortunately, does not pay salary. Jobs are few and far-between, and sometimes that big commission you earn has to last you a while. The money I make can't even afford me a place of my own. Not that it's that bad. My work takes me all over, so buying some shanty-shack in the middle of the slums would be a moot point. Besides, living here would be a bad idea. Supposedly, there's a 10,000 Gil reward for my head. Several have tried to collect it (too bad I can't collect that myself). Unfortunately for them, I happen to be very tough prey. There were two or three midnight underwater burials a few years back. Heh, I guess those canals are good for something after all.

I turn right onto Bishop Street, and walk at a lax pace. Lost in thought, I barely realize what's going on when I accidentally plow into some noble who decided to stop right in front of me. I look up and I see some young blond guy in his teens with his back still turned to me. "Watch where you're going, you plebian oaf!" (almost looks like Zidane a little. I still have a score to settle with him…if I ever manage to find him)

I have to stifle a snicker, because as he whips around, his eye widen and go round like hedgehog pies. "Uhh…uhh….uh!" A small wet stain forms around his groin. _This is pathetic,_ I think to myself. Unsheathing my claws, and mustering up the best bandit-sneer I can think of, I lean close to him and softly whisper, "Boo." This has the desired effect, as the poor little shit runs away screaming. _Since when did I become the boogeyman?_ I ask myself._ Fuck it, I gotta meet up with that client or eating is a no-go for the next month. _

I lapse back into my thoughts again. So many things go through my head at one time, but hardly anyone would believe it. I don't say much, I guess. One-Word Amarant, the kids at the orphanage used to call me. That was many years ago. They changed. I didn't. Then again, talk is cheap. And most people just aren't worth talking to.

Walking for about another fifteen minutes, I finally find the place I'm looking for. Tarantino's Bar, otherwise casually known as "The Place" is a hot spot for all sorts of black-marketing and what I guess the nobles would call "villainy." Stuff like drug trade, prostitution, and then there are people like me. A lot of the time, this is where my deals are made. Gil changes hands, and I get the backgrounds on my quarries. Whether it's Treno crime bosses, Alexandrian radicals, or the odd minor official in Lindblum, this is where I hear about it. Sometimes I wonder if anything from Burmecia will come up, but from what I've heard, the Western Country is in total chaos at the moment. The person I'm supposed to meet up with tonight identified themselves over Mognet as Burke. Having nothing to go by but a password, I take a table at the far end of the room as requested by my contact.

After about five minutes of sitting against the wall, I'm approached by a man in his early forties, clad in brown rags. "Pardon me, sir, but can I buy you ten beers?" he says in a noticeable Alexandrian accent. This is part of the password.

"No, thank you," I grumble, "but I'll take a bottle of Cactuar Spirit." Satisfied with my identity, Burke sits down. We order a couple of pints of beer, and sit for a good several minutes without saying anything. I begin to size him up a little. Strong face, hard eyes. Possibly a soldier or former knight. Definitely incognito, because he would otherwise stick out like a sore thumb. He is the first to speak.

"Amarant Coral. I hear you're good at what you do. I also hear the bounty on your head is enough for a down payment on a small airship."

"I didn't realize I was collecting on myself," I growl.

"Of course, this bounty could easily be forgotten, you could be exonerated in full, and could end up a very rich man, if you're interested in what I have to say."

He said the 'R' word. He now has my undivided attention. "Go on," I say with a devil-may-care attitude.

"Tell me, how do your politics run?"

"Nonexistent."

"Do you have any grievances against Alexandria whatsoever?"

"Nope." I'm beginning to realize who my client might potentially be. I'm a little uneasy, but I don't show it.

He lowers his voice before he speaks again. "Well, next question. I'm sure you've heard about the disappearance of Princess Garnet, yes?"

"Maybe." Now there's no doubt in my head. There's no saying no to this one, even though I want to. Badly.

"While I can't go into much detail, I will say this: the Princess has run off with a national treasure of the kingdom, and is being escorted by several accomplices. We don't know her exact whereabouts, but she fled the kingdom several days ago."

"I'm sure I read about it in _Rose Weekly._"

"Yes, well, you see, this is a very precarious situation for both the people and the crown, Mr. Coral."

"Amarant."

"Fine. Amarant."

"So, what, do you want me to kill a princess?" I'm getting a little impatient with the small talk.

"No, I want you to come to Alexandria and get a briefing from Queen Brahne. I wasn't told the exact nature of the job. My orders were to find you, make contact, and bring you back to the castle, along with one other."

"Who's the other?"

"A woman named Lani."

I grit my teeth when I hear this. I do not like her. She is the noisiest, most amateurish bitch I've ever had the displeasure of knowing. Barely into her twenties, Lani acts as if she's been a bounty-hunter forever. She carries this stupidly huge axe on her back, and swings it around like a fucking kid whenever she gets the chance. A good bounty-hunter never draws attention to themselves. She practically cries out for someone to notice her. I think she should have been an actress, or some sort of showgirl. She's too unprofessional. She'll get into shit one day. And in a team, if one person lacks, the other (that's ME) suffers. I'm not gonna pay for her inexperience and have it cost me a job (or in this case, my life).

Burke picks up on my reaction. "You know her?"

"Something like that."

"Good." He gets up from the table, leaving the money for the beers. "Be outside the city gates at 10 o'clock sharp. We have a small airship for transport courtesy of Her Majesty."

"Until then." I get up from the table and leave Tarantino's.

Trudging down the street, I pass a clock shop near the Knight estate. The clock face says nine. I have an hour to kill. I plop myself down on a bench near the canal, and watch the gondolas float by. _This job stinks something awful, _I think to myself. _I can feel something bad about it. Why couldn't it have been a simple "this guy won't pay up what he owes: get him" sort of job? I hate politics. If I mess this up, I'm gonna be public enemy numero-uno._

**_So don't mess up!_** another voice in my head answers. **_You're The Flaming Amarant, for God's sake! Thirty-four years old, and fifteen of those in the business, dammit! You've got more notches on your claws than Cid of Lindblum has airships! The reason Burke approached you was because your track record is spotless._**

_Hell, I didn't even know that the royal family kept tabs on the Treno underworld. Makes me wonder how much they really know about me._

**_You make it sound like you have some dark secret. What? You were an orphan. You were raised in an Alexandrian institution. You left to go to Treno. You became a bounty hunter when you were still a teenager and sweeping inns began to get to you. About the only thing that could stick out is that you're a wanted man yourself, and most bounty hunters are, anyway. Besides, they already know about that! You know, if something's bothering you, you should be honest with yourself._**

_Nothing's bothering me. Leave me alone. _

_**I am you, seaweed-head.**_

_Suck chocobo eggs. _

_**Look, you know what's bothering you. You think you're not gonna come back from this one.**_

_I don't know about that. _SOMETHING'S_ bound to happen, though. I trust Lani just about as much as I'd trust a Qu to watch my frog. She'll fuck it up. Watch. _

_**Then try to work on your own. Do whatever the job entails yourself, and collect the credit. If Lani tries to horn in on it, scare her off. She knows she couldn't take you.**_

_Maybe…_

Disturbed by my churning brain, I decide to walk towards the city gate.

**CHAPTER TWO: THE AIRSHIP: Will she ever shut up?**

_ The jobs had stopped coming for some time, now. He was getting desperate. He would not be able to pay the bill for the inn by next week, nor get himself a filling dinner. With the "market" being unreliable, he had no choice. He took a job as a security guard for the King family. He was hired by a representative of the young, reclusive millionaire to watch over the items and artifacts to be auctioned. He was now on the other side of the law. While temptation often stirred his instincts, he became the ascetic monk, and reminded himself of the steady flow of Gil at the moment. Although it was painfully dull, everything had been going fine, for about a month…_

"_STOP, THIEF!" Some little blond punk with a tail had broken into the mansion one night, and stole a working theater-ship miniature. King's idiot guards were slow as molasses, and the kid had stupid speed for a teenager. The boy kept going, until he was cornered by _him._ Blondie found himself staring into the face of the Salamander. The muscular, red-haired giant was fed up with the job, and was looking for a fight. Forget the stolen item. It was pummel-time. Of course, the fight never happened. Once King's gum-soldiers finally caught up, the boy accused _HIM_ of being the thief, and claimed to be innocently walking when he was assaulted. Well, that was the end of his security job, and the beginning of the 10,000 Gil bounty on his head. He later found out the boy's name, after much heated inquiry, swearing to get even with the one who got the best of him…_

_("How can I describe it to you? The sly eagle hides its claws.")_

_Zidane Tribal…_

Getting to the city gate in time is no problem. According to the clock over the arch, I'm fifteen minutes early. That's fine. Especially since Burke and Lani are already waiting by a small passenger airship, which somewhat resembles an old galleon. Two figures in pointy hats pilot it up top, and twin Mist engines hum on either side of the craft. I look over to Lani, who seems to be interested in filing her nails on her axe (what a professional this kid is). Acknowledging my presence after about two minutes of self-absorption, she smirks at me and says "Hey. Good to see you, Red." She always calls me Red, for my hair. It pisses me off. At that moment, I almost wish I was collecting the bounty on her instead of Garnet.

"Hey yourself," I manage to say without any indication of what I'm thinking. I'm sure she knows I wish she'd manage to fall off the airship once it takes off. I don't think she particularly cares.

"I was almost surprised when I found out you were on this job. And here I thought me and my axe wouldn't have to share the bounty money."

"Life's tough."

Burke signals to the two pointy-hats (Can't place my finger on it, but I've seen or read about people who look like that), and then motions for us to get on the airship. Being no gentleman, I get onboard before Lani, knowing it'll piss her off.

"Whatever happened to ladies first, hm?" She scolds me, shaking her finger, among other things. I shrug and walk inside. Burke climbs up onto the bridge above the cabin. I suppose this is done to supervise our odd-looking pilots (they look like something recently described to me. Black mages or something? I'm not sure. I don't really keep in the loop when it comes to these things). Lani scrambles in just as the airship takes off.

Burke gets on the speaker. "Alright, you two. We just left Treno's city limits. The ship should arrive at Alexandria in about three hours. Make yourselves comfortable."

Inwardly, I groan. _Great, I have to spend three hours with this chatterbox. I'll turn myself in to the Treno Magistrate if it means sparing me from all of this._ I quickly remind myself that the prize from this catch will take care of all my living expenses for the next year, and suddenly, the three hours seems tolerable.

Lani, however, is anything but tolerable. Ten minutes into the trip, she takes a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and puts one in her mouth. She casts a small Fire spell from the tip of her finger, lights it, and puffs away happily until the cabin is filled with noxious grey smoke.

"No smoking in the cabin," I growl.

"What's the matter, Red? You? A health nut? You certainly don't seem like it, what with all the booze you drink. I wouldn't be surprised if your liver imploded one of these days."

"It stinks. Put it out."

"Why should I? It's a free country."

I grin devilishly. "No, it's not actually. Forget who we're working for? Now put the cigarette out unless you like skydiving without a parachute."

Pulling her trademark pouty kid-face at me, she dashes it against the blade of her axe, tosses it in a corner, and wipes off the ashes. "Happy?" she barks at me.

"Ecstatic." I take my claws out of the holster on my leg, and start sharpening the blades against a leather strap I bought in a Treno hobby shop. Lani starts yammering on about something or other, possibly about recent jobs she's done. I'm only half-listening.

"…and he thought that he could get away with cutting through a Chocobo pasture, but…"

"…anyway, so one of the guys from Lindblum gave her…"

"…I could have sworn that my axe did the job…"

"…are you even LISTENING to me, Red?"

"No," I answer truthfully. It's been thirty minutes. My claws are now as sharp as Lani's tongue, which, given her nonstop talking, I'd like to surgically remove right about now. All she does is talk. What I'm interested to know is if she could back it up.

"You mean you've just been sitting there absentmindedly the whole time, letting me waste my PRECIOUS energy talking to a bump on a log? What the hell? I thought we were making conversation, you know? And those were some pretty serious jobs! I've made a name for myself! Who else could have pulled off that heist?"

(Which heist? I wasn't listening)

I let her cluck a while.

"Hey," I say, finally getting a word in edgewise.

"What?"

"You talk big, but how good are you, really?"

I see I've touched a nerve. Her eyes narrow. "What are you getting at?"

"I'm sure there's enough room on the deck to spar a little. Unless you're chicken, kid."

Hook, line, and sinker. "THAT'S IT! WHO ARE YOU CALLING A KID, YOU OLD BASTARD? I'LL BET YOUR REAL HAIR COLOR ISN'T RED! IT'S GRAY!"

This is amusing. "I may be old, but at least I'm not green around the gills."

Seeing that she didn't get me with that barb, she relents to my teasing. "Fine, what are the terms?"

"Unarmed. First blood. No magic."

"Fine." She coughs into her hand, not trying very hard to cover up the word 'loser.'

We leave our weapons in the cabin, and go out on the deck. Burke seems to take some interest in what we're doing, but doesn't interfere. The mages don't even acknowledge our presence. Standing opposite sides lengthwise of the airship, we square off, assuming the positions of our chosen disciplines. Lani's made a name for herself as a decent fighter. This much I know. But talent or not, I doubt she'll beat me. I am a master of martial arts, and I have a weight and strength advantage over her. If there was any wagering going on, I'd be the favorite.

Just as I predicted, she takes the offensive. Her skill shows, it's really obvious, although her technique is sloppy and leaves a lot to be desired. I have no trouble blocking her and parrying her blows. Even without my claws, I don't break a sweat. Perfectly happy playing defense to this little nuisance, I let her get one or two shots from time to time just to build her confidence. I think that once she gets cocky enough, she'll try a damn fool move in order to finish me off. Why is she so predictable? It's boring, man!

Finally, she musters up the nerve to try and throw me. Big mistake. Using gravity as my lever, I counter her, and send her flying into a stack of boxes. BOOM! She looks a little surprised, but pops back up.

"Had enough yet?" I taunt. I find psychology is a big part of the battle. Power is one thing, but if you serve it up with some manipulation, you can usually get the enemy to inadvertently do themselves in. Such is my monk technique.

"Enough? Ha! I'm more worried about you, old man! Maybe if you surrender, I'll show you some mercy!" It's hilarious. I'm only about 14 years her senior, and I'm an old man. Well, age before beauty.

"Bring it."

You know what really gets me? She has no tactical smarts. She doesn't learn from her mistakes. She doesn't approach me from a different angle. She tries the same damn move over again. This time, I decide to let her fall. As she charges, I sidestep her, stick my leg out in front of hers, and shove her, creating a nice little lever. She collides face-first with the deck. Her nose shatters, and when she looks up, it's bloody.

"I win," I tell her. Taking a Hi-Potion out of my pocket, I apply the mixture to her nose. It heals instantly, leaving just the blood of the now-defunct wound.

She's indignant. "Hmph. Doesn't mean anything. You got one lucky shot."

"One lucky shot is all anyone needs. Tighten your technique. You'll need to, or else you'll wake up dead. Not to call your bounties flukes, but you could easily have been done in a thousand times over. I won't work with a screw-up. This is a serious mission, and I need the cash probably as much as you do. The Queen's gonna pay handsomely."

"Fine," she leaves the deck for the cabin. Two minutes later, I see a little noxious grey cloud float up from the portal. I start laughing. Probably one of the few times I've ever laughed out loud.

Up on the bridge, above the cabin, Burke nods to himself, having seen firsthand our little melee. He's taking mental notes, I'm sure. It's of no concern to me. But he comes down a couple of minutes later. "Impressive, Amarant," he says casually to me. "I can see why Queen Brahne would want your services."

I nod in acknowledgement. Calling up the details of our conversation several hours ago, I turn and say, "You know, I realize that the Queen will personally brief us, but I think you also know something about all of this. Anything you can tell me will be helpful."

Burke thinks for a second. "What do you want to know?"

"The princess's accomplices. Who are they? How strong?"

"Well," Burke says, adjusting the hood of his robe behind his neck, "there are two of them. One of them is a black mage."

"That's one of those things up there, right?"

"Right. He's smaller than these two, though. The other one, well, we're not entirely sure, but he's been described as a blond teenager with an unusual feature."

The hairs on the back of my neck prick up. "What would that be?"

"Well, he has a tail."

The world suddenly stops. I can see my single heartbeat as a flash of light across the lenses of my eyes, staining the night horizon. My hearing inverts, and I can hear my own breath. Could it be? It has to. Only one person on all of Gaia fits that description.

_I MUST KEEP MY COOL._

"The boy's name is Zidane Tribal," I tell him. "He's a thief. A good one, too. But how the hell did he get involved with the princess?"

"We suspect they're lovers. Either that, or she's been brainwashed somehow since her kidnapping."

"Oh," I say. Suddenly, the job takes on a whole new light. I'm not just apprehending Garnet and stealing back whatever she took. I'm going to find Zidane and settle the score by flinging him into the Mist by his tail. Monkey boy is mine.

Leaving Burke in the esteemed company of his mage pilots, I walk back into the cabin. Lani's cigarette (or cigarettes… Shiva, she's really taking this hard) is stubbed out, and resting in the corner next to the previous ones. She notices that something's up with me. "Hey, Red, what's the matter? Winded, some?"

"No."

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

I choose not to explain. How could I tell her about that stupid night where I was bested by someone even younger than she? How could I tell her about the three years of constantly watching my back I've had to endure? I can't.

"The only ghosts I see are the smoky trails of your little cigarettes. No wonder your stamina suffers."

I get a poisonous look for my troubles. I chuckle a little, but inside, my stomach feels like lead.

**CHAPTER THREE: ALEXANDRIA: Why we fight**

The airship lands in Alexandria. It's about 11PM, local time. We have an audience with the queen tomorrow. In the meantime, we'll have to find accommodations in the town. So much for letting us stay in the castle. I'm perfectly happy with an inn, anyways. Besides, Burke is footing the bill. We pay for nothing.

At our mutual (explicit) requests, Lani and I are given separate rooms. Not that I wouldn't mind seeing her changing into her PJ's, but her immaturity and obnoxious behavior kill any sex appeal she might have. Besides, I sleep alone. And for the first time in a while, I can let my guard down, because no one would dare try to get me while I'm in the service of the most powerful woman on the Continent. However, I can't sleep, and my mind is plagued with thoughts.

_ I wonder if it really is him. I mean, I have no true proof, but how many blond kids with tails in this world are there? I've never heard of any strain of human that carries a gene for a tail, so he's gotta be one-of-a-kind. And if he's traveling with weak company who's incapable of defending themselves, that makes it that much easier to get him. His hands will be tied, trying to defend instead of taking the offensive. Not that he's a good fighter anyway. How could he be? He never even tried to lay a blow on me. He just pulled that stupid stunt. The stunt that's, well, inconvenienced me for some time now. _

_ I don't even hate him. I can't even describe what I feel towards him. Maybe I feel like he took a piece of me. That I need to win it back from him, and prove myself again. Not that it will make the bounty go away, but there are some things I can live with. How could somebody so small and inexperienced beat ME? I didn't even see it coming. That was my fault._

_ But will I kill him when I see him? I know I'll fight him, but will I finish him off? Or will I be satisfied with proving myself right? WHY do I want to prove myself right? What's wrong with the way I am? What makes him better, anyway? It's the way he carries himself. His confidence. He doesn't flaunt his power at all. He outwits his opponents. I was outwitted. Hah, imagine that. _

_ Maybe I want to ask him some questions. Break my one-word "vow of silence" and really get to know him. Hah, yeah right. Just catch up to him, kick the fucking shit out of him, and then solicit his advice and philosophies. Way to go, Amarant, you wimp. Who raised you? Moogles? No, I'll learn by his actions. I'll see why he beat me. I'll take it apart piece by piece, and reassemble it as a weakness against him. And once I've won, it'll be over in my head, and I can bury the matter._

_**But you won't bury the matter, Amarant. This isn't a trivial curiosity. This is a threat to your very way of life.**_

_Who asked you?_

_**I am you, stupid.**_

_Great, my inner monologue insults me. Look. I just need to get back what's mine._

**_Why are you so hell-bent on proving yourself right? Isn't that a true mark of insecurity? If you were really adamant in your belief of "power, strength, and outer fortitude," you wouldn't be moping around like an idiot, sniffing the trail of some snot-nosed punk, whom you secretly worship in morbid awe._**

_Presumptuous much? Look. This is a black-and-white matter. He got me, I'm gonna get him back, and make me a shitload of Gil in the process. Okay, pal?_

_**I feel sorry for you. Goodnight.**_

I fall into a mercifully dreamless sleep…

I awake to Lani squawking at me to get up. I look at the cuckoo clock on the wall, and it reads 6 o'clock in the morning. Our audience with the Queen isn't until 8 o'clock in the evening. "Why in God's name are you waking me up so early, kid?" I grumble.

"Early to bed and early to rise-"

"Bull," I cut her off. "I'm going back to sleep. We don't have to be there until nightfall."

"Aren't you going to eat breakfast?" What a kid she is. I've lived in Treno for most of my life. The word 'breakfast' doesn't exist in the practical vocabulary of the people.

"If you don't let me go back to bed, I'll roast _you_ for breakfast. Scram." I pull the pillow over my head, and kick the covers down to my knees. Finally, I get up, dig into my discarded trousers, pull out a flask of John Griffin, and take a slug of it.

"You know, only alcoholics drink without eating."

I reach over the bed and toss one of my shoes at her, purposely missing. It strikes the wall in back of her. I look up in time to see that same childish pout. "You don't have to be so _mean, _you know!"

"Look, Lani. Go eat. Go shopping. Keep yourself occupied. I don't need to hold your hand. It's like you said: I'm an old man. Let me sleep."

She huffs and storms out of the room. _Peace at last._

So much for sleep. After Lani leaves, I lose interest in catching a few winks before seeing the Queen for our briefing. I decide to get dressed and look for the local pub so I can eat what could be my last peaceful meal for a long time. I find this little tavern on the way which upon seeing it, makes me want to leave. It's too cutesy and perfect. The main cocktail is called "Her 3 Majesty!" Come on! Still, beggars can't be choosers.

I sit down and order some eggs, toast, and coffee. And, once I've gotten the coffee, in accordance with the **Treno Tradition** (the underground handbook for all mercenaries, criminals, and ne'er-do-wells which suggests certain habits that lead to a more "badass" existence), I take out my flask of John Griffin and spike the cup with a liberal amount of booze. Café Diablo. It's good shit.

Since I get free refills, I have a couple of more cups. Soon, I am happily soused, drunk, shitfaced, plastered, three sheets to the wind, juiced, and thoroughly inebriated from the alcoholic coffee. Bliss.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not an alcoholic. Lani likes to exaggerate my drinking because she knows it annoys me. Still, I feel that in order to survive this evening, I'm going to need some medicine. The thoughts haven't gone away. I still feel like something will go horribly wrong. In addition, my mind is preoccupied with the addition of the Zidane variable. I cannot begin to wrap my brain around the enormous life-changing potential this job will bring me. I begin to weigh some possible outcomes:

1. I will complete my mission, apprehend Garnet, do whatever it is the Queen wants, and bag Zidane in the process.

2. The mission will go as planned, but Zidane will escape.

3. The mission will tank, but I'll still end up getting Zidane back.

4. Both the mission and Zidane will blow up in my face, and the bounty on my head will quadruple.

I could end up a Mercenary Prince, revered in my trade for the Bounty of a Lifetime, or I could be next year's pay for whichever hunter collects my head. It hasn't quite sunk in. Hence, I have eliminated all capacity for thought, and will now find a nice place to laze about until I have to be at the castle. After a stroll, I end up at the docks near Queen's Bay. Finding an abandoned fishing pole and some tackle, I spend the day casting into the water, my mind happily empty.

The hangover KILLS. I've had hangovers before, but this one takes the cake. My eyes are bloodshot to the point where they're the same color as my hair. Lani suggests some coffee to cure it. Little does she know… I laugh again, but the motion racks my head with pain. I try a Chakra spell, but it only alleviates some of the aches.

It's now about 6 o' clock in the evening. We start to head towards the castle. Lani strides along as usual, her young body bouncing as it walks. God, it's wasted on her. She's beautiful, but a complete horror show. I furrow my brows in thought as I trudge behind her. "Hurry up, Red! God, you look awful! It's a good thing your hair hides your eyes!"

Getting to the castle is nothing short of a pain in the ass. First, there is a gondola to take us across the stupidly huge lake-moat. Then once we land, we are searched by Alexandrian guards. They try to strip us of our weapons, but Lani coerces them to leave us alone with a menacing swing of her axe. Gotta admit, the kid's got spunk.

Burke meets us at the gate. He doesn't say anything to us. He simply orders Zorn and Thorn, the Queen's two midget clown flunkies, to escort us to the royal balcony. As he gives the order, he looks at them with contempt. I can see why. They bumble about and mirror each other's speech. It's annoying. I would happily end their pathetic lives, but it would be a dumb idea to make my client angry before I collect.

The two jesters lead us up the stairs, and as we approach the door, say "Wait here," in unison. After several minutes of waiting, they trudge out together, completely silent, not even acknowledging us. Not even a "come on in." So what? Protocol be damned. Lani marches boldly through the threshold and past the Alexandrian guard as she proclaims her credentials. "I'm Lani, the best and most beautiful bounty hunter in the world!"

_The hell you are, kid. You're lucky we're on the same team._

I just brush the guard aside in my usual style. Nothing personal. The shortest distance between two points is a straight line.

I leave the talking to Lani and Brahne, since public relations is decidedly not my thing. Besides, I probably won't be able to say anything intelligent, what with my head throbbing like a dying sun. However, once Lani has said her piece, I approach the queen.

"Is it true there is a boy with a tail traveling with them?" I say, not lending any particular emotion to the question.

"Yes, that accursed monkey. I shall give you an extra reward if you take care of him!"

_Fuck the reward._ I told her that I'd take care of Garnet once I've finished with Zidane.

I'm not sure what her reaction to my statement is. I don't stick around long enough to get a glance, nor do I really care. Casually leaping off the balcony, I land feet-first in the castle courtyard. I feel the fluids in my brain reel from the impact. My headache flares up. I grit my teeth in agony, but not long enough for Lani to notice.

Once we're back in town, Lani tries to explain our plan of attack. According to Brahne's recon team, Zidane, Garnet, and the mage were last spotted in Lindblum. A reliable source placed inside of Lindblum Castle suggests that they were headed towards the marsh in search of a pathway to the Outer Continent. Brahne mentioned a tunnel called Fossil Roo in the briefing. In order to intercept them, we'll need to get to this tunnel first. Lani thinks that the best way to do this is to hire a charter airship to the marsh. I listen intently, but my mind is somewhere else.

_ Zidane, you little simpleton… didn't you KNOW I was going to eventually catch up to you? You can't throw a rock at a Zaghnol and expect it not to retaliate. When I finally find you, prepare to fight for your life. You may have guts, but you're nothing compared to me. I'm stronger, disciplined, and unlike your sneaky "outsmart and run" tactics, I won't hesitate to kill you. I hope for your sake that you've grown stronger in the last 3 years. Even if you lose, I expect you to make things interesting._

_Until we meet again…_

_**THE END**_


End file.
